


Home

by SarcasticMusician



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Ex, F/F, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:32:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4647285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarcasticMusician/pseuds/SarcasticMusician
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy has never liked mixing work with her personal life. But what if this mixture isn't for her? What if it's Angie's past and present colliding? How will they handle it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SteelLily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteelLily/gifts).



Hey guys! So another jealousy fic for you because Peggy jealous is just plain addicting. This is for SteelLily who wrote my favorite fic here called "Higher Education" (check it out if you haven't) because a) it's the best, b) they gave me the heads up so I can start actually watching this show soon, and b) they commented asking for something like this. Hopefully this is similar to what you had in mind, I hope you all like it/tolerate it. 

* * *

Two weeks.

Two weeks of worry, stress, concern turned anger.

Two weeks and Peggy has yet to understand.

No, this is not her usual ire. The anger and confusion focused on Angie’s auditions, how could they not see her talent? Her dedication? Her beauty?

Nor is it the annoyance caused by Howard or the men at work. The bloody fools they are.

No, this annoyance has a way of pulling both her worlds together. Her work and her Angie. And it’s all because of one woman, and one “secretarial job” as Thompson called it.

Lucia Bianchi. Her file sits opened on Peggy’s desk, her dark hair and willowy frame stare up at her from various newspaper clippings, face concealed slightly in each. A member of the Italian Mafia, an empty lead who the SSR was told to avoid. No need to turn up so many stones, with the agency still on shaky standing after the loss of their Chief, awaiting a new one.

“Secretarial”, as Thompson put it, was to better assemble the file, cross connecting and refiling. Peggy thought nothing of it months ago, the annoyance at her lack of respect keeping her occupied.

But not now, not for two weeks.

Peggy remembers things. “Fairly well”, if one were to ask her; “perfectly”, if one were to ask those she calls friends as well as various enemies.

It’s no surprise that she recognized her. Lucia made her first appearance known on a Wednesday two weeks ago. Though Peggy has no way of knowing how long she had been followed by the woman.

Outside of the L&L, across the street from The Bell, even showing up occasionally across the street from The Griffith. No, this was not random nor coincidental- this was a message. But a message of what, she had no possible way of knowing.

Though Peggy and impossible rarely found themselves in the same thought strand, she was determined to keep said record soaring. Especially due to the close proximity of Angie and the danger Lucia presented.

Luckily, many sleepless nights have been spent ensuring Lucia had yet to find their home, Jarvis’ driving providing a confusing and dead ended route to follow.

Peggy had found herself carefully following the lead of the woman. Tracing her to an unmarked car as well as a dingy hotel. With nothing to go on and no understandable targets, she waits.

Watching.

Lucia visits across The Bell almost religiously. A flower shop, but never seems to leave with anything. Peggy's digging shows nothing but legal facilities within the shop and its dealings. Just a little old woman, grey in the hair and bright in the eyes, coaching her grand daughter to take over the business.

It is here where she finds the hastily scribbled note, handwriting matching the samples she had found in Lucia's long ago memorized file.

_"I'm in town for a bit, meet me at our spot? 10, tonight. - L. B."_

She had replaced the note in the bouquet of brightly colored flowers, purchasing a few roses to brighten Angie's face when she returned home. She watched the shop for a while and saw the flowers being brought to the delivery truck, deciding instead to follow her lead on the woman, Peggy waited outside her hotel room that afternoon, Jarvis at her side.

They tracked her for a few blocks, finally ending at the embankment by the river about thirty minutes before ten. Whatever it was it seemed Lucia wanted to be prepared, or possibly was nervous? Her pacing caused Peggy to heighten her defense unsure of what was about to happen.

At eleven the woman seemed to deflate, heading to her car once again.

This scenario occurred almost nightly ever since, different colored flowers, slightly more pleading notes, and an almost devastation clinging to the air as she would trudge to her car.

Each night for Peggy's part, would find herself grumpily shifting in her seat to the amusement of Jarvis- hoping for something to finally happen. They’d talked hushed a few times on the concern of Angie’s safety, all the while Jarvis’ eye retained a strange glint causing Peggy to fall silent on her worried murmurs. Once Lucia was followed back to her own home, Peggy could be found rushing to her’s to anxiously ensure Angie's safety, lock up and settling in for an amusing and much needed chat or sleep which more often than not became blessed with visions of Angie.

On the nights Angie would work the night shift, Peggy was sure to stop by after work. Ready to talk and walk her home before heading out again for yet another few hours beside Jarvis at the embankment. Though the curiosity lingers, Angie’s smile and presence are quick to fill Peggy’s body with warmth and sooth her mind, if only for the moment.

This is one of those nights.

Halfway through Angie’s long winded soliloquy on the day’s events and “who ever thought a grown man could eat so many grilled cheeses? It was concern’n, English! He’s probably half cheese by now!” conversation, the bell on the door rang through the air.

Peggy tenses as does Angie. Peggy’s fingers inch quickly toward her gun but her thoughts of mafia, work and Angie get interrupted by Angie’s own response to the intrusion. For her part, Angie’s face morphs into a glare at the woman with a stiff yell of "what the hell are you doing here?"

"I thought we could talk" she replies, shifting awkwardly bringing a shaky hand from behind her back, a bundle of violets coming into view.

"You've got no right com'n back here, go on get!"

"We can talk about this, I'm not with them anymore I quit...Well as much as I can, can we talk somewhere a little more... private" She asks, glancing at Peggy - the only remaining customer

She tenses, not willing to let Angie out of her sight.

"Nah, if you gotta talk talk now."

Silence fell as the woman turned pleading eyes on Angie, Angie’s cool glare holding.

"Look," Angie sighs shoulders slumping a bit as she lets out a sigh, "All that was a long time ago, you gotta move on. Carol told me she saw you checkin’ around the Griffith, an' don't think I can't see your car lotterin' around every shift."

Peggy slightly confused, watches the pity in Angie's eyes grow along with the tightness in her jaw.

The girl shifts. "I quit for you!” Tears glistening she continues, ”I thought we could try again, that's what you wanted! I did what you wanted!" She exclaims shoulders shaking

"Hun," Angie tries to sooth, "I wanted you to want to get out, but to get out for yourself to find honest work- not for me"

The girls face falls further.

Angie hazards a glance at Peggy, full of some form of concern or maybe fear- Peggy suspects. But she has the mind to note the instinctual heaviness in her own stomach. Not the lightness and clarity of a fight, but the clench of something...something she doesn't have the time to analyze as she watches the willowy women inch closer to the counter, situating herself closer to Angie.

"Here just...just take these will you?" She begs voice slightly cracking, hand held out.

With a slight wince Angie beckons to the seat across from her at the counter, "take a seat Lucy, we’ll only do this once. Got it?"

Peggy watches as the girl nods solemnly but the clench assaults her again at the moist twinkle slowly lighting in the stranger's eye.

"How've you been, Ange?" Lucia asks as she inches onto the seat, legs swinging from its tall stature.

"Better, a lot better." Angie replies with a soft smile quickly meeting Peggy's own eyes. "I've moved from the Griffith as Carol musta told you, so you need to stop trying, Hun. Okay?"

"She may have mentioned it...." Peggy grows slightly more confused at the dark gaze shot in her direction. "But I figured the Automat was a good choice, I haven’t heard your ma boasting about any Broadway roll, ya’ know? ..And after the last few days I figured now was as good as ever....you're rarely alone you know?”

The words cause a shift in Peggy. On sturdy legs she swiftly grabs her tea and walks the few steps to the duo, feeling her trusty gun’s weight forcing her purse to swing slightly more wild.

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear, have you been stalking Ms. Martinelli here?" Peggy asks gaze locked and armed. She off-handedly notes Angie's slight blush but takes it as a sign of her discomfort.

"I-uh-" Lucia stutters, quickly grabbing a napkin to wipe her glistening eyes, sharing a glance with Angie.

"We're old friends" Angie is quick to supply. "We had a falling out a few years back, and I thought I'd told you to stay away or was it not clear?" She directs the end with sharp eyes toward Lucia.

Lucia nods along, eyes falling to the pastel counter.

"Ah, yet you've returned? For what may I ask?" Peggy directs her question once again to the dark haired woman, slowly yet effectively dropping her arm across the counter and leaning upon it, propped at the elbow, in hopes of hiding Angie's petite frame.

"Flowers! I had sent some, but she-you" she glances over Peggy to the sliver she could see of Angie’s face, "never came."

"I figured a good cake to the face woulda told you how unwelcome you are, though I guess the hint wasn't clear enough." Angie scoffed, all of the women noting the rising agitation in her voice. “I don’t want to see you.”

"I don't wanna give up....we were good tog- we were good fr-friends, Angie! You can't just throw that away, throw me away-" she fades off grabbing harshly for another napkin, ripping it in her haste

"Easy as throwing a cake I reckon’." Angie shot back, eyes softening slightly as the tears fall faster. "I forgive you, Lucy, honest. But I got outta there and I have no reason or want to go back. I may have lov- liked you and it may have been good and easy for a bit, but that doesn't change the past and I don’t want you in my future."

Silence engulfs the group for a moment the words ringing out harshly in the air.  

Lucia rolling through each and every memory. Angie and her heckling the neighborhood boys and scoring runs at baseball. Celebrations in too long hugs and hesitant, then non-hesitant kisses. Long nights talking about the future, of running away, of stage lights and a home filled with flowers. Young love they say. But Lucia, Lucia believed. Lucia knew. Lucia believes. Lucia knows. Angie is the one for her. If only she could make her love see it.

Angie's eyes played the darker times back to her. The times of angry fathers and murdered cousins. The getaway drives and worry. A similar  deep seated worry that has sat clumped in her stomach since she first heard of Lucia’s search for her. A clump in her stomach that has been there since she accepted her feelings for Peggy. Her roommate. The woman who should never know of her unnatural feelings. The woman who has quickly filled her dreams and made her days so much brighter. It clenches as she stresses over appearances and outings. How would she react? Does she know? The back of her mind whispers, ‘maybe she is too, maybe she likes you too’. But as always wishful thinking hits her like a stab to the chest, so she finds herself mentally gagging that idea and focusing on her fear. Fear is easier than hope, she's learned. 'But still', the thought whispers through the mental gag, 'what if?'

For her part, Peggy’s brilliant mind takes to over analyzing and assessing. First, she assures no weapons have been/could have been hidden on Lucia. Next, she notes the distance between Angie and herself as well as Angie and the danger. Her stomach clenching slightly at the seemingly decreasing distance between their hands, as if Lucia is reaching out...or maybe Angie is. The thought brings the slight taste of bile to her mouth and an excessive amount of protective urges. The rational side of her mind scoffs at this, she has tried to convince it of her "protective urges" for far too long. 'Protective,' it sing songs in a taunt remarkably similar to Jarvis' voice, 'is that what we're calling it these days?" Peggy tries to go back to analyzing but the voice crawls it's way to her attention. 'How mistaken can you be, Peggy? How fearful? How blind? Protective urges have nothing to do with your crave of late nights in the library accompanied by Angie and her scripts. They have nothing to do with your rush home after work, nor your rush to the L&L twice a day. It has nothing to do with the butterflies you got when you dance giggling like teenagers, her bright eyes and laugh making you feel light. They certainly don't have anything to do with your near addiction to her, or the urge to kiss her goodnight, good morning, and everything in between.' The voice rants, finally allowed the freedom to speak, as the silence in the room trails on. Wait a minute...the flowers? The embankment?

“Why were you trying to lure Angie to the embankment so late?” Peggy asks, gaze sharpening, voice deathly calm

“I-” Lucia begins to answer almost hypnotized by the glare

“Lucia!” Angie interrupts flustered, “Let me walk you out.”

Peggy watches, tensed and concerned as the duo walk to the door. Her stomach tightening further at their proximity as well as the barrier the wall would provide,  Peggy could only hope Angie would keep them within view.

Luckily for Peggy’s sanity, Angie wanted just that or as close to view as possible. Not wanting to field any advances if it should come to that.

“Lucia, we’re done. Final, over, dead as a doorknob, over as a- well I don’t know what, but we’re through.” Angie announces into the cool night air, hands crossing before her

“But-”

A shake of her head has Lucia curling in on herself slightly.

“Okay.” Lucia aggrees, shuffling on her feet.

“For real this time, Luc. No more tracking me down, no more flowers, no more Griffith.” Angie says locking eyes with the woman before her

“Fine...if you’re sure?” Lucia asks one last time, looking into turquoise eyes she’d dreamed about

“I am.”

“Can I- Can I have a hug before leaving?” Lucia asks, after a drawn out pause she continues, “We were friends once, just as friends. I’ll miss you…”

Looking into her face, Angie sees her friend -if only for a moment. The little girl with pigtails who would help her stage productions in the living room. The one who held her when her papa died, and was the first to encourage her dreams. She saw the friendship they once had before the rest of the world got in the way, before love, before obligations.

As much as it hurts to think, she can’t help the cold sliver of thought from creeping into her mind. Maybe Peggy and her should just stay friends, regardless of her feelings, regardless of her hopes. Besides, Peggy’s not like that, no matter what her dreams say.

Nodding slightly, she can almost feel Peggy’s gaze burning into her back as she allows the shaky, tear-filled hug. Patting the woman’s back slightly, discomfort bubbles and burns inside her.

As they pull away, Angie relinquishes her hold with a pitying smile, eyes expressive.

That’s when it happens.

She should have known.

Surely she should have.

Peggy is out of her chair before Angie’s body can hit the window.

Mind rushing and the clench of that still unknown feeling nearly making Peggy sick. Her hands tight fists at her side, she forces herself to stay calm but her eyes don’t move from the two women beyond the doors.

The kiss was...well...the kiss wasn’t with Peggy and to be honest that’s all Angie could think. The cool lips were not the same that were coated red each day, nor telling work stories each night. The arms around her waist were not the same that held her weeks ago as they danced together, too many drinks and the soft music causing their stumbled dance. It wasn’t the right smell, the right place, the right person.

Nothing was right, but to Lucia everything was.

Fireworks and memories come flooding back to her in the few moments of the shocked kiss. Ferris wheels, summer days, and happy times flood her mind. She couldn’t help but wish, maybe just maybe…

Before Lucia could finish the thought she was shoved away. Angie’s eyes compressed in anger.

“Go.” The word rings in Lucia’s ears as she watches Angie stock into the restaurant. She watches the retreat for a moment, hope flashing in and out of her mind and eyes. That’s when she sees it, the heavy glared aimed at her.

‘Oh.’ She thinks, eyes sinking to the pavement, ‘Of course.’

It’s almost easier this way, knowing Angie is happy. How many times had she watched the two talking and laughing long into the night, leaving together, walking close. Of course the brunette had taken an interest, of course. Who wouldn’t with a woman like Angie? She is everything, if only Lucia had realized it sooner.

With one last glance through the window, Lucia makes a vow to stay away. ‘Angie’s happiness,’ she thinks, ‘will have to do for now.’

She walks back to her car slightly more steady, hands free of the violets and heart free of what-ifs. Climbing in, Lucia refuses to look in the rear-view mirror for one last glance. If she’s going to start caring about Angie’s wishes more than her own, she better start now.

‘Perhaps’, Lucia muses halfway through Ohio, ‘there is another woman out there to share a life and make a home. With a porch and flowers strewn around.’

Angie avoids Peggy’s eyes, instead focusing on the flowers and their new home in the garbage -amongst napkins and ketchup.

She’s moving, a tornado of cleaning on the outside and thoughts on the inside.

Would Peggy kick her out? Would she ask? Would she know? Would she care? The back of her mind whispers sharp slivers of hope, but the concerns remain.

Halfway through sweeping the floor, she feels a tug on her arm causing her to spin. Gently, oh so gently, Peggy presses a napkin to Angie’s lips, wiping a bit, eyes locked.

Her eyes ask a question, that her brain can’t bare to translate causing her heart to take control. The answer is silent a possible hitch of breath or small shift closer, but in an instant Peggy’s lips cover hers.

It’s right.

It’s more than either could ever dream, and far too much to contain.

Angie drops the broom, instead reaching her arms around Peggy, pulling her closer. Peggy does the same, relishing in the feel of Angie in her arms.

Parting slowly, the rest their foreheads together basking in the feeling and sensations surrounding them.

“Well then,” Peggy is the first to speak, eyes still closed, “Ready to head home, darling?”

‘Home.’ Angie thinks smile only growing on her face, ‘A home with Peggy.’

Slowly leaning in for one final long kiss, Angie breaks away with a teasing smile feeling Peggy’s arms tighten around her waist and sigh breathed over her lips at the loss of contact.

Quickly finishing the sweeping and grabbing her jacket, Angie links their arms and makes for the door.

Switching off the lights, Angie moves to push the door only to be stopped by they’re linked arms.

“Don’t think we won’t be speaking about your mafia ex, love.” Peggy says, voice slightly tinted with a roughness

“Oh shut up, English.” Angie replies, using their linked arms to pull Peggy into a deep kiss. Her smile shown by the soft light pooling in from the street, “Take me home.”

 


End file.
